No Destiny 2 - Endings or Beginnings
by leaysaye
Summary: Lori has just died giving birth to her baby. Rick is distraught, and Daryl wants to help. But will he be able to? Rick/Daryl, slash. This is the second part in a series. Major hurt/comfort. Illness. Sickfic.
1. Chapter 1

They all knew Rick had gone off the deep end, and badly. After Maggie and Carl came back with the baby but without Lori Rick disappeared into the bowels of the prison. When he was gone there was an awkward silence. Nobody quite knew what to do next. Finally they gathered their weapons and moved inside.

Daryl knew he'd have to go after Rick, and soon, but he didn't relish the thought. He felt distraught about Carol, and there was so much to do. They would need to dig several graves, and find formula for an infant. Feeling overwhelmed Daryl went and sat down by himself on the metal steps leading to the upper cells. His head was pounding, and he felt the now so familiar nausea welling up.

The headaches had started again a few days before they'd found the prison. He'd been mostly all right for the couple months before that. They'd found some Relpax not long after the episode with Rick's broken leg, which had helped on the odd occasion when he'd had a bad day. The pills had run out two weeks before the prison, and as much as they'd hoped to find medical supplies at their new stronghold so far they had been disappointed. There probably were supplies somewhere, but other things had kept them busy.

Daryl took a deep breath. He decided everything, including his headache, would have to wait. It had to be Rick first. Maybe, if Daryl went after him right now he could head off the worst of the storm, let Rick know he wasn't alone. Daryl made his way down the stairs and picked up his crossbow. When he passed Hershel he said quietly, "I'll go after him. See what's what."

Hershel nodded. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. Daryl had suspected some of the others had guessed his and Rick's secret, but so far nobody had said anything. Daryl wasn't sorry it hadn't come up, life was complicated enough.

He moved on to the gate that led from their part of the prison down to the dungeons. He still carried the keys for the block and used them to unlock the gate.

Getting into the near total darkness was almost a relief for Daryl's head. He moved slowly, alert for any noise or movement. He found that he was having trouble distinguishing sounds again, his ears were filled with the buzzing he remembered from previous migraine attacks. He knew he didn't have much time before he'd be useless again, and he wanted to at least talk to Rick before the headache laid him flat again.

It wasn't difficult locating Rick, all Daryl had to do was follow the trail of butchered walkers the other man had left in his wake. Usually not squeamish around blood and decay Daryl had to fight hard to keep himself in check as he slipped and slid on the blood soaked patches around the piles of walkers. The smell was getting to him, and he nearly turned around, but he forced himself to keep going. It was now or not at all.

Finally he came to what looked like a boiler room. The door stood ajar and Daryl could definitely hear movement inside. He peered round the door carefully, crossbow at the ready. Rick was crouching on the floor next to a reddish-black and glistening patch of concrete. The stench of fresh and old blood mingled sickeningly around Daryl and he gagged. Nevertheless, he stepped into the room and descended a short flight of stairs to the main level.

"Rick," he kept his voice low as he approached the other man. A few months ago he would have probably kept his distance but after what they'd shared, and what Daryl was sure they were becoming, he didn't even think about stepping right up to Rick and putting a hand on his lover's shoulder.

For a second Daryl didn't know what was happening. Then he collided painfully with the wall and the back of his aching head hit concrete hard enough to make him bite his tongue. He could taste blood, and saw nothing for several moments but exploding lights. The pain was excruciating and Daryl gave an involuntary groan. He'd closed his eyes at the impact and kept them closed now, willing the room to stop spinning.

One moment Rick was pinning Daryl against the wall where he'd just slammed him into it, weirdly helping Daryl to stay on his feet as his knees threatened to buckle. The next moment the pressure against Daryl's chest vanished and he could hear Rick's footsteps receding.

"I'm sorry…"

The words were barely audible and already far away. Daryl opened his eyes, but it still took a moment to blink away the wildly flashing pinprick lights. His ears were ringing now and he felt extremely sick. Each heartbeat sent a wave of pain and nausea straight from his head all the way down to his gut.

When his vision cleared Daryl could see Rick disappearing behind the boiler that filled up most of the room. For a moment he considered following him, but quickly decided against it. Daryl felt actually afraid. Who knew what Rick could be capable of in this state, and Daryl had no strength left to hold him in check.

And anyway, Daryl had to get out of the cloying stench as quickly as possible. Still half blind with pain he stumbled back up the stairs. Navigating the walker piles in the corridor was harder than on the way in and he dropped his crossbow twice. Luckily Rick had cleared up thoroughly between their block and the place where Lori had died, and Daryl didn't encounter any undead that were still walking.

He fumbled with the keys to the cell block gate and almost dropped them, his hands were shaking so much. Daryl could feel sweat beading on his face and his vision was starting to narrow. He had to use all his willpower to prevent himself from vomiting, or fainting on the spot. He finally got the gate unlocked and stumbled through. The others looked up when he came in but he didn't look at any of them.

He dropped the keys on the floor together with his crossbow and hurried up the last flight of stairs. If he could just get out and into fresher air…

The light outside was blinding, and Daryl staggered when he stepped through the door. He lifted one hand to shield his eyes, but even behind closed lids the sun seemed to be slicing into his brain. He had never felt so sick in his life. His stomach was roiling and he only managed a few steps to one side before he lost all control. Daryl flung out a hand to keep on his feet, hoping to be close enough to a wall to catch himself. His hand connected with stone the second his willpower lost the battle and everything came up in a rush.

His legs wouldn't hold him up any longer. He crumpled to his knees, trying, but not quite managing, to avoid the pool of sick. He kneeled, bent over, for a long time, retching even when his stomach had nothing left to give. When he finally managed to regain some control he let his shoulder sink against the wall, panting hard. He wanted nothing more than get out of the light, but he felt utterly unable to move. He was afraid even to open his eyes, the light just hurt too much.

There was movement behind him, then a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Let's get you inside."

Daryl squinted round and saw Maggie holding out a hand. Daryl nodded, but, not wanting to get sick on her he ignored her offer and tried to get himself off the floor by holding on to the wall. That wasn't working very well so Maggie stepped up and supported him by the elbow. Daryl felt so weak and shaky he could hardly stand, and when Maggie slipped his arm over her shoulder to support him he didn't protest.

Together they managed to get back into the cell block. Maggie looked up the metal stairs and at the cell Daryl had chosen for himself up there.

"Never mind that," she said, half to herself, and guided Daryl to one of the cells along the bottom row that was still unoccupied. "We can bring you anything you might need from upstairs later." Daryl didn't care, he just had to lie down, and soon. He was sure the others were all staring but even that didn't faze him much at that moment.

The dimmer light inside helped his head but moving around had made the nausea worse again. He wondered how long he could keep himself from throwing up all over Maggie. She got him into the cell furthest away from the communal area, and Daryl, supporting himself against the bunk beds, sat down onto the lower one.

"Be right back."

And she was. Daryl had closed his eyes again, battling down the sickness that was threatening just off-stage now. When he opened them again Maggie had come back with a wet cloth and a metal basin. Giving him one look she held out the latter.

"You look like you'll need that soon."

She'd hardly finished the sentence when she was proved right. Hunched over the basin Daryl felt miserable and embarrassed. His stomach was tying itself in more and more impossible knots even though there was nothing but bile left now. That in turn was burning his throat fiercely, and tears started running down his face.

Maggie sat down next to him and pressed the cool cloth against his forehead. She was clearly not fazed by the vomiting and stayed close, even gently rested her hand on his back, which Daryl found surprisingly comforting.

Finally the sickness abated. Daryl could breathe again, and did so gratefully. Maggie took the basin away and he didn't protest, simply accepted her kindness. All he wanted now was sleep. He struggled clumsily to get out of his jacket, and Maggie again came to his rescue.

"You want to take your pants off, too. There's puke all over them."

Daryl didn't protest and let her help him again. He was past even feeling embarrassed now, even when she helped him stand briefly so he could pull off the soiled clothes. And then, finally, Daryl was able to lie back on the bunk. It was gloomy enough here so that closing his eyes actually brought some relief. He exhaled slowly and tried to relax. His whole body felt sore from the tension, first of trying to control himself then from the force of the vomiting.

Maggie returned with a fresh cool cloth, and a glass of water. She put the glass on the small table suspended from the wall and put the cloth on his forehead again. Then she held out something else in the palm of her hand.

"Dad found a few Tylenol rattling around the bottom of his kit. Take them. We'll start looking for more meds as soon as we can, but what with everything it might be a while, I'm sorry."

"Don' apologize, you didn't do this..."

And neither, Daryl thought, did Rick. He might have been the one who'd slammed Daryl into the wall but in truth he was at fault for being an idiot and ignoring the warning signs, from his own body and from Rick. Daryl hated being weak, but he realized he'd have to accept that he would be, sometimes.

He gingerly raised himself enough to swallow the pills and wash them down with the water Maggie handed him. She waited a few moments, looking at him critically as if to see whether the Tylenol would stay put.

"Thanks." He looked at her. "I mean it."

Maggie smiled and turned to go. "Sleep now. The basin's on the floor right next to you. I'll hang up a blanket over the door to shut out some more light. We'll be right outside, call if you need anything. Don't be the hero, ok?"

Daryl nodded reluctantly. "Ok."


	2. Chapter 2

Someone was in the cell with him. Daryl only gradually managed to shake off sleep and was annoyed at the betrayal of his body. This was all well and good here in the safety of the prison, but if he was out there alone and his reflexes were shot to hell he'd be a sitting duck for anything and everyone. The thought of needing others to have his back was a poisonous thought, and it made him feel sick. Like he needed more of that…

He half turned and squinted into the gloom. The Tylenol hadn't even taken the edge off, but sleep had somewhat. As long as he didn't make any hasty movements the throbbing in his head was bearable. He recognized the figure outlined in the door.

"Rick."

Daryl felt both longing and trepidation at the sight of the man. He knew Rick would've come only for one reason, and that was to apologize. He didn't need to hear it. He just wanted to go back to sleep. Rick stepped closer, letting the blanket Maggie had hung up fall back over the entrance.

It was now almost completely dark and Daryl could feel Rick rather than see him come close to the bunk and crouch down. A gentle hand alighted on his cheek but Daryl couldn't help flinching away, and a stab of pain shot through his head. He groaned, and Rick's hand froze.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl. I…"

Rick's voice was thick with grief and pain, and exhaustion. Daryl felt sorry for him, and frustrated that he hadn't been able to be there for his lover. He reached out and took Rick's hand in his, then cradled it against his chest.

"S'ok. Come and lie down. Can't stay awake right now…"

Daryl felt Rick sit down on the bed and turned to face the wall again. The only way for both of them to fit onto these ridiculous bunks to actually sleep was by lying on their sides, one behind the other. Daryl had snorted when Rick had called this spooning, but the truth was he quite liked it. It made him feel safe to have Rick flush against his back, and he felt himself relax now as the other man adjusted into that position. Daryl held on to Rick's hand as it came around his middle and gave it a squeeze. He could feel Rick's warm breath on his neck, too.

"My mind is all scrambled, I don't even know what to think. She's dead, and now we've got a baby to care for, and I hurt you so bad…"

Daryl's heart went out to him. "Don't worry about me, man. I'm fine, just get on with…"

He could feel Rick lift his head. "But you're not fine! Nothing's fine…" Daryl could feel the other man's anger and his heart beat faster. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain down which welled up with the increased heartrate, breathing slowly. It was no use. He shifted around, already half sitting up. Rick was up next to him, swinging his legs off the bunk.

"Rick…"

"You gonna be sick?"

"Yeah…"

Rick bent down, then handed the basin to Daryl. It wasn't a moment too soon. There was again just bile to vomit up but the acidity was so painful in his stomach and throat it actually made Daryl sob. Rick was there, hand on his back, stroking him, holding him when he slumped over with the exhaustion of it all. When the retching finally stopped Rick disappeared with the basin but was back quickly.

There was barely any light for which Daryl was grateful. He heard the basin replaced on the floor, then Rick's hands on his shoulders pushing him back down. Next, a cool cloth on his forehead made Daryl sigh with relief. He felt feverish and shivery at the same time. His head was burning.

"Maybe I better leave you to sleep." Rick's voice sounded thick with worry. "I am sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned all this now."

Daryl put his hand on Rick's as it was smoothing down the cloth. "Don't go. Just lie down with me. We can talk later."

He scooted over and after a second's hesitation Rick rejoined him. He held Daryl close and buried his face in Daryl's neck. Daryl closed his eyes, relaxing back into the familiar embrace, willing himself to breathe slowly and keep calm. He could feel Rick drop off to sleep quickly, for which he was grateful. Finally, when his mind and body had calmed down some, he also fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

When Daryl woke up Rick was gone. Daryl's head felt better. He was just getting up from the bunk to see if he could tolerate the wider world when Maggie shifted the blanket shielding the doorway slightly.

"Can I come in?"

Daryl nodded and she stepped into the cell. She was holding something in her hand and now offered it to him.

"Glenn and I went for a run to get formula. The teachers at the nursery we found must've had a hard job, they had all kinds of medication locked away. We found some migraine meds."

Daryl took the pill bottles from her. He had a lump in his throat, both from gratitude and embarrassment. When had he become such a fucking nuisance that other people felt compelled to help him? He didn't blame the others for helping but he hated the fact that he needed it.

"Thanks," he managed, and knew that it sounded inadequate. He looked at Maggie and tried to put some of the gratitude he felt into his gaze. She smiled at him, then turned to go.

"D'you…" Daryl hesitated, but on balance decided it didn't matter now who knew or what people thought about it. "D'you know where Rick is."

The smile had vanished from Maggie's face when she turned back to him. "He's in the dungeons again."

The medication had been a godsend. Sleeping it off had done a great deal already to reduce the headache, and an hour after taking the meds Daryl had felt like himself again. There had still been so much to do, and he had was glad to be able to chip in again. Clearing walkers from the dungeons hadn't been exactly fun, but finding Carol had been more than worth it. This day had definitely been a huge improvement over yesterday.

There was still the problem with Rick, however. When he'd handed Carol over to Hershel to have her checked over Maggie had told Daryl that Rick had come out of the boiler room at last and was cleaning up in the shower block. There was no running water in the prison, but thanks to the drainage there it was still the best place to wash up and clean their clothes.

Daryl made his way over to the showers and could hear water splashing as he approached. When he walked through the door Rick was just drying off. He'd stripped to the waist and despite everything that was going on Daryl had the strong urge to run his hands over that broad chest and feel the other man close again. After the previous day, however, he was wary of just approaching Rick without gaging his mood first.

"Hey."

Rick looked up, and while the smile didn't quite reach his mouth Daryl could see a softening in his gaze that was definitely an invitation. He went over to stand close to the other man, looking him in the eyes but not touching.

"You look much better. Feeling ok?"

Daryl nodded.

Rick put the towel on the sink and his hand came up to Daryl's face. He rested it against Daryl's cheek lightly and leaned in for a kiss. It felt like an apology and a question, but again, Daryl needed no apology. That moment, all he wanted was Rick. But he wasn't sure this was a good time for them to do anything like this, so he pulled away from the kiss.

"Maybe we should take it easy fo'bit?"

Rick shook his head. "No, we shouldn't. We only have the here and now, I finally understand that. And we should make the most of it. I want you, Daryl, right now."

There was that question again in that statement, and in the blue eyes that were holding Daryl's gaze. He nodded, and Rick took him by the hand and led him out of the washroom area. They went down a corridor and turned into a part of the prison the others had barely seen yet. The prison library lay just ahead. Daryl had discovered it when they first scouted out the block, and he had brought Rick here on the third or fourth night inside.

Rick opened the door to the library. The rooms back here looked much friendlier than the cell block, and the library even had a carpet. There were chairs and tables between the bookshelves, and against the back wall stood an old, saggy sofa. Rick was aiming for that now, but Daryl stopped and pulled him close.

He started kissing Rick hungrily as soon as the other man turned his face toward him and moved in as close as he could. The need for contact was suddenly overwhelming, and Rick noticed, as he always did. He pulled Daryl in and held him in a close embrace. Daryl could feel Rick's erection pressing against him and felt himself getting hard.

Now Daryl took the lead and pulled Rick the rest of the way to the sofa, but held him back as Rick attempted to pull them both down.

"Wait."

Daryl made short work of Rick's buttons, letting his fingers scoot over the warm skin of his belly and tracing the hairs down to his waistband. When Rick's pants fell away Daryl unzipped his own fly, undid the button and stepped out of his pants and boxers within seconds. He also shrugged off his jacket.

Rick meanwhile busied himself with the buttons on Daryl's shirt. Daryl was no longer nervous about that. He knew Rick wouldn't try to get him to take his shirt off completely. They hadn't talked about it, but Rick understood enough to leave the issue alone.

And he'd had the right instinct now. As soon as Daryl's shirt came undone he leaned into Rick with a sigh, savoring the sensation of skin on skin. Daryl wrapped his arms around Rick and just held very still for a moment. He could feel the other man's heartbeat against his own, and felt his own cock press against Rick's erection inside his boxer shorts.

Evidently Rick decided that this last barrier of fabric had to go, too. He pulled them down, and also stepped out of his clothes. He let himself drop onto the sofa and beckoned Daryl over. Daryl went eagerly, straddling Rick, looking down on him for a moment. Rick's eyes were transfixed on Daryl's erection and he took him gently in one hand. Daryl let his head drop back as Rick started to stroke him, first slowly, then faster and faster.

Daryl groaned. He wasn't going to last if Rick kept this up for even one more minute. So he reluctantly stilled Rick's hand and gave him a long, hard look, as if he wanted to commit him to memory for the rest of his life.

"Y'do that, I'm done," Daryl panted. Rick placed his hands on Daryl's hips and looked at him again.

"C'mere then."

There was only spit again, but with their mutual trust, and their experience with each other, that was now hardly an issue. Rick prepared himself, and guided Daryl gently into place. Daryl sank down slowly, reaching behind and adjusting Rick until he could accommodate him. He ended up half kneeling on the sofa, half straddling Rick, and it was the most amazing feeling. He was reminded of their first time on the porch right after the farm, only this was better. This time Rick was actually his, and their pleasure was mutual.

Owing to their positions Daryl was in charge of the rhythm this time. Rick kept his hands on Daryl's hips, holding him steady, bracing himself. His eyes were almost closed now and Daryl could tell he was close. He suddenly felt strong emotions welling up.

There was pleasure, of course, and gratitude for being there this moment with the man he was falling in love with, but also sadness for Rick's loss, and guilt for letting this go so far right now, when what he should have done was comfort Rick and get him to rest.

But Daryl could also tell that in this moment, for probably the first time in days, Rick's mind was not consumed with the misery of losing his wife, and the worry about a new baby, and about Daryl. He most certainly was exhausted, but right now his face was flushed with sex and he looked more relaxed than Daryl had dared to hope for.

Rick's head sank back now, his lips parted and his breath hitched. Daryl braced himself against the back of the sofa, shifting his movement and making each tilt of his hips deliberate and slow. Rick's back arched off the sofa slightly and he groaned as he came. Daryl held still for the first few seconds, letting Rick ride the wave, then leaned back, took himself in one hand and rocked himself gently, Rick still inside. The size of the other man's erection was still enough to stimulate his prostate in just the right way, and within thirty seconds Daryl managed to push himself over the edge, too.

They stayed in their position for a long while after the endorphins of the orgasms had washed away, Daryl curled against Rick, savoring the afterglow and their closeness; and only reluctantly did they eventually break apart.

As he was putting his pants back on Rick suddenly stopped mid-way. Daryl, who was sitting on the sofa tying his shoelaces, could see his head slump down. He got up and put his arm around Rick. The other man's shoulders were shaking now with silent sobs.

Daryl pulled Rick back onto the sofa and enfolded him in his arms. He wasn't too good at talking about feelings, but they were close enough now for him to hold Rick tightly as the despair washed over him. Rick clung to Daryl like a drowning man, sobbing, and Daryl's heart broke for his lover.


	4. Chapter 4

It felt like his whole life had been nothing but a series of shitty mistakes since the dead had risen, but the last couple of weeks had definitely been the worst. Lori was dead, Glenn and Maggie had been abducted by a madman, they suddenly had a motherless infant to care for and now Daryl was gone, too. Rick tried to console himself with the fact that at least they'd gotten Glenn and Maggie back from the Governor, but somehow even that was a paltry compensation, all things considered.

The horror of Lori's death was still preying on his mind constantly, and the hallucinations he was having about her were driving him out of his mind. But the thing most painful and devastating at that moment was that Daryl was gone. He had been Rick's anchor in an increasingly mad world this winter, and the only person he had wanted around him since Lori's death. Not that he'd done such a good job of showing the other man that…

Rick didn't blame Daryl for sticking with his brother, even if that brother was Merle. He wondered if maybe Daryl had also wanted to get away because Rick kept hurting him. Whatever it was, Rick thought as he walked through the underbrush, he was gone.

And suddenly there was chaos. Guns were being fired, people were yelling. Rick dropped to the ground returning the fire.

He'd almost become used to these crises, acted on autopilot now. It seemed like the attack lasted a long time but all Rick could feel was numbness. Until suddenly, there was Daryl by his side. With him came Merle, but Rick hardly minded, he was so relieved to see his man.

When it was all over and they had made their way back into the prison courtyard, dispatching walkers from the van that had broken through the fence as they went, Rick unsurprisingly felt less blasé about Merle being back.

He was already dreading the discussions he'd have to have with the others. There would be a lot of talking, and a lot of anger. But Rick knew only one thing for certain at that moment, and that was that he would not let Daryl leave again.

Carl unlocked the upper gate for them, and Rick could see Carol holding her gun at the ready. Glenn, scowling, stood close by the entrance to their block.

Rick turned to Merle, meaning to straighten out a few rules before they even got inside, but his eyes were instead drawn to Daryl, who had fallen back. He was off to one side, about to disappear round a corner of the cell block. Rick had a feeling he knew what that was about, and decided immediately that Daryl had to be the priority.

Rick looked at Carol, Carl and Glenn, then motioned at Merle. "Get him inside. And lock him in until I get back."

He waited for Carol to nod and Glenn to move towards Merle, then turned and hurried towards where Daryl had disappeared. When he could see around the corner he spotted Daryl not far away, bent double. As Rick was making his way over the other man sank to his knees. Rick could see that he was shaking. He walked over and crouched down next to Daryl, who was being violently sick.

Rick's heart was heavy. Daryl had been so unwell, it had become a constant worry for them all, and it seemed to be getting worse. Rick had talked to Hershel but the old man had said there was nothing much they could do.

"The stress we're under is making it worse, and Daryl puts a lot of extra pressure on himself. But I can't see either of those things changing anytime soon. Best we can do is get him the medication, and make sure he takes it. And keep him safe when he's having an attack."

Rick was committed to all of these things, but it wasn't easy. The sickness wasn't even the main issue, though it had started to take its toll. Daryl looked gaunt and fragile now even when he was not in pain. It was the complete shutdown that was the real issue. If an attack hit him out in the open Daryl would be completely helpless, and in great danger. Rick still got the shivers when he thought about what could have happened when Daryl came out to look for him after Rick had broken his leg.

Daryl now seemed to be having difficulties staying on his knees. He was still heaving and was pressing both hands to his stomach. Rick took hold of him and kept him steady. He put one hand lightly on Daryl's neck in support and could feel a fierce heat under his skin.

Eventually the spasms subsided. Rick scooted closer and dropped to one knee, and Daryl slumped into him. He was shivering despite the warm sun, and moaning quietly. He clutched Rick's arms and buried his face against Rick's shirt. Rick held him gently, trying to shield him from the blinding light with his body. He could feel the other man's heart racing.

They stayed like this for a few minutes, Rick giving Daryl time to get his breath back. His hand had started automatically stroking Daryl's neck in small, slow circles and kept this up until he could feel the other man quieten down.

Still holding Daryl close, keeping him shielded from the light, Rick finally asked, "Shall we try and get you inside?" He felt Daryl nod against his chest.

Rick helped Daryl to his feet, then stopped for him to get used to being upright when he could feel the other man tensing against him.

"Keep your eyes closed. I've got you."

It took them a frustratingly long time to get inside. Daryl was uncoordinated and clumsy, and he leaned on Rick more and more heavily. Rick got him back into the same cell they'd spent the night in after Lori had died. Merle stared at them from the cell Glenn and Carol had put him in but didn't say anything. His glance was strange; Rick thought he almost looked with pity at his brother. He was sure Merle would later give him an earful about it all.

In the cell he started to get Daryl settled. Carol, who had seen them come in, brought the already familiar wet cloth, basin and a glass of water. Daryl's pills were on the table where he'd left them. Rick sighed. His man wasn't doing himself any favors by acting like he didn't need help.

He held Daryl back when the other man moved towards the bed. "You are soaked in sweat, and you got puke on yourself. Let's get you out of that stuff, man."

Rick looked at Carol, who nodded. "All right if I get some clean clothes from your cell?" Daryl made a small noise of assent and Carol vanished.

In here, with the light dimmed by the blanket over the entrance hi pain seemed to have subsided somewhat. Rick sat Daryl down on the bunk, shook a couple of pills from the bottle and handed them to the other man with the glass of water. Daryl swallowed the pills and Rick put the glass back on the table.

"You didn't bring any one these when we left for Woodbury, did you?" Daryl shook his head and looked down. "You need to keep these on you at all times. If you're out there like this you won't last a day."

Daryl wouldn't look at him. Rick sat down on the bunk next to him. "Look, I know it sucks. All of this sucks. But I need you to take better care of yourself. If you don't then I'll worry. Daryl, you are too important to me, I _need_ you by my side to get through this."

Now Daryl looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. Rick had to swallow hard, he felt like crying himself. He enfolded Daryl in an embrace and the other man clung to him like he was drowning.

"'m sorry, Rick. Sorry I went off with Merle, and sorry 'm not here for you. I'll do better, I'll look after myself, I swear…"

Through a gap in the blanket Rick saw Carol hovering just outside the door. He gently disentangled himself from Daryl without letting go of him completely. He looked at his man. Daryl's eyes were unusually large and shiny in his pale face, and Rick felt a powerful mix of emotions. He wanted nothing more than have this man by his side. He wanted to protect him, but also have Daryl protect him. Rick pulled him close again, and felt a couple of tears run down his own face. Then he got off the bed and went over to collect Daryl's things from Carol.

He helped Daryl out of his soiled clothes and into a fresh shirt, not commenting, as usual, on Daryl preventing him from seeing his back. Rick had his own ideas about that, but now was definitely not the time to even allude to it.

The headache must definitely be better now, Daryl was moving less like in a trance. But he looked exhausted, and even though it was the middle of the day Rick knew that sleep would be the best thing for him. When Daryl lay down on the bed Rick crouched next to him for a moment. Daryl looked at him with tenderness again.

"Don't throw Merle out. He's not as bad as y'all think."

Rick smiled. "I promise I won't, but I do need to have a talk with him. If he wants to stay he'll have to follow the rules."

Daryl nodded. His eyes were already starting to fall shut.

Rick brushed a strand of hair off Daryl's forehead and gently kissed him on the brow. "You sleep now. We'll talk later."

"Thanks, man. F'everything…" Daryl's voice was hardly more than a whisper now.

When he was sure Daryl was asleep Rick straightened up and walked out of the cell. He had some serious talking to do with several people.


	5. Chapter 5

It felt like his whole life had been nothing but a series of shitty mistakes since the dead had risen, but the last couple of weeks had definitely been the worst. Lori was dead, Glenn and Maggie had been abducted by a madman, they suddenly had a motherless infant to care for and now Daryl was gone, too. Rick tried to console himself with the fact that at least they'd gotten Glenn and Maggie back from the Governor, but somehow even that was a paltry compensation, all things considered.

The horror of Lori's death was still preying on his mind constantly, and the hallucinations he was having about her were driving him out of his mind. But the thing most painful and devastating at that moment was that Daryl was gone. He had been Rick's anchor in an increasingly mad world this winter, and the only person he had wanted around him since Lori's death. Not that he'd done such a good job of showing the other man that…

Rick didn't blame Daryl for sticking with his brother, even if that brother was Merle. He wondered if maybe Daryl had also wanted to get away because Rick kept hurting him. Whatever it was, Rick thought as he walked through the underbrush, he was gone.

And suddenly there was chaos. Guns were being fired, people were yelling. Rick dropped to the ground returning the fire.

He'd almost become used to these crises, acted on autopilot now. It seemed like the attack lasted a long time but all Rick could feel was numbness. Until suddenly, there was Daryl by his side. With him came Merle, but Rick hardly minded, he was so relieved to see his man.

-.-

When it was all over and they had made their way back into the prison courtyard, dispatching walkers from the van that had broken through the fence as they went, Rick unsurprisingly felt less blasé about Merle being back.

He was already dreading the discussions he'd have to have with the others. There would be a lot of talking, and a lot of anger. But Rick knew only one thing for certain at that moment, and that was that he would not let Daryl leave again.

Carl unlocked the upper gate for them, and Rick could see Carol holding her gun at the ready. Glenn, scowling, stood close by the entrance to their block.

Rick turned to Merle, meaning to straighten out a few rules before they even got inside, but his eyes were instead drawn to Daryl, who had fallen back. He was off to one side, about to disappear round a corner of the cell block. Rick had a feeling he knew what that was about, and decided immediately that Daryl had to be the priority.

Rick looked at Carol, Carl and Glenn, then motioned at Merle. "Get him inside. And lock him in until I get back."

He waited for Carol to nod and Glenn to move towards Merle, then turned and hurried towards where Daryl had disappeared. When he could see around the corner he spotted Daryl not far away, bent double. As Rick was making his way over the other man sank to his knees. Rick could see that he was shaking. He walked over and crouched down next to Daryl, who was being violently sick.

Rick's heart was heavy. Daryl had been so unwell, it had become a constant worry for them all, and it seemed to be getting worse. Rick had talked to Hershel but the old man had said there was nothing much they could do.

"The stress we're under is making it worse, and Daryl puts a lot of extra pressure on himself. But I can't see either of those things changing anytime soon. Best we can do is get him the medication, and make sure he takes it. And keep him safe when he's having an attack."

Rick was committed to all of these things, but it wasn't easy. The sickness wasn't even the main issue, though it had started to take its toll. Daryl looked gaunt and fragile now even when he was not in pain. It was the complete shutdown that was the real issue. If an attack hit him out in the open Daryl would be completely helpless, and in great danger. Rick still got the shivers when he thought about what could have happened when Daryl came out to look for him after Rick had broken his leg.

Daryl now seemed to be having difficulties staying on his knees. He was still heaving and was pressing both hands to his stomach. Rick took hold of him and kept him steady. He put one hand lightly on Daryl's neck in support and could feel a fierce heat under his skin.

Eventually the spasms subsided. Rick scooted closer and dropped to one knee, and Daryl slumped into him. He was shivering despite the warm sun, and moaning quietly. He clutched Rick's arms and buried his face against Rick's shirt. Rick held him gently, trying to shield him from the blinding light with his body. He could feel the other man's heart racing.

They stayed like this for a few minutes, Rick giving Daryl time to get his breath back. His hand had started automatically stroking Daryl's neck in small, slow circles and kept this up until he could feel the other man quieten down.

Still holding Daryl close, keeping him shielded from the light, Rick finally asked, "Shall we try and get you inside?" He felt Daryl nod against his chest.

Rick helped Daryl to his feet, then stopped for him to get used to being upright when he could feel the other man tensing against him.

"Keep your eyes closed. I've got you."

It took them a frustratingly long time to get inside. Daryl was uncoordinated and clumsy, and he leaned on Rick more and more heavily. Rick got him back into the same cell they'd spent the night in after Lori had died. Merle stared at them from the cell Glenn and Carol had put him in but didn't say anything. His glance was strange; Rick thought he almost looked with pity at his brother. He was sure Merle would later give him an earful about it all.

In the cell he started to get Daryl settled. Carol, who had seen them come in, brought the already familiar wet cloth, basin and a glass of water. Daryl's pills were on the table where he'd left them. Rick sighed. His man wasn't doing himself any favors by acting like he didn't need help.

He held Daryl back when the other man moved towards the bed. "You are soaked in sweat, and you got puke on yourself. Let's get you out of that stuff, man."

Rick looked at Carol, who nodded. "All right if I get some clean clothes from your cell?" Daryl made a small noise of assent and Carol vanished.

In here, with the light dimmed by the blanket over the entrance hi pain seemed to have subsided somewhat. Rick sat Daryl down on the bunk, shook a couple of pills from the bottle and handed them to the other man with the glass of water. Daryl swallowed the pills and Rick put the glass back on the table.

"You didn't bring any one these when we left for Woodbury, did you?" Daryl shook his head and looked down. "You need to keep these on you at all times. If you're out there like this you won't last a day."

Daryl wouldn't look at him. Rick sat down on the bunk next to him. "Look, I know it sucks. All of this sucks. But I need you to take better care of yourself. If you don't then I'll worry. Daryl, you are too important to me, I _need_ you by my side to get through this."

Now Daryl looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. Rick had to swallow hard, he felt like crying himself. He enfolded Daryl in an embrace and the other man clung to him like he was drowning.

"'m sorry, Rick. Sorry I went off with Merle, and sorry 'm not here for you. I'll do better, I'll look after myself, I swear…"

Through a gap in the blanket Rick saw Carol hovering just outside the door. He gently disentangled himself from Daryl without letting go of him completely. He looked at his man. Daryl's eyes were unusually large and shiny in his pale face, and Rick felt a powerful mix of emotions. He wanted nothing more than have this man by his side. He wanted to protect him, but also have Daryl protect him. Rick pulled him close again, and felt a couple of tears run down his own face. Then he got off the bed and went over to collect Daryl's things from Carol.

He helped Daryl out of his soiled clothes and into a fresh shirt, not commenting, as usual, on Daryl preventing him from seeing his back. Rick had his own ideas about that, but now was definitely not the time to even allude to it.

The headache must definitely be better now, Daryl was moving less like in a trance. But he looked exhausted, and even though it was the middle of the day Rick knew that sleep would be the best thing for him. When Daryl lay down on the bed Rick crouched next to him for a moment. Daryl looked at him with tenderness again.

"Don't throw Merle out. He's not as bad as y'all think."

Rick smiled. "I promise I won't, but I do need to have a talk with him. If he wants to stay he'll have to follow the rules."

Daryl nodded. His eyes were already starting to fall shut.

Rick brushed a strand of hair off Daryl's forehead and gently kissed him on the brow. "You sleep now. We'll talk later."

"Thanks, man. F'everything…" Daryl's voice was hardly more than a whisper now.

When he was sure Daryl was asleep Rick straightened up and walked out of the cell. He had some serious talking to do with several people.

Rick was amazed how much could happen in just a day in this world. This morning he'd woken up next to Daryl, but it felt like that had been a week ago. He had hardly seen Daryl all day, but whenever he'd caught a glimpse of him he was glad to see that his man seemed pain free and going about his business as usual.

Now it was evening again. Rick had just gotten over another apparition of Lori and felt rattled. He'd had so many discussions all throughout the day, about Merle, about whether or not the people Carl had found in the dungeons could stay, about the Governor. Then Andrea had shown up, and there had been more arguments after that.

Rick knew that there was nothing for it, they had to be ready to fight that guy in Woodbury. He was sure the Governor would not sit quietly in his gated community. Sooner or later he would be back, and that would mean war.

They would go to his old station tomorrow to get weapons. Rick was planning to take Michonne along. He didn't quite trust her yet, though his gut feeling told him he most likely could. But now, for the moment, all he wanted was to be with Daryl.

Rick went up the metal stairs. Most of their group had gone to bed, but Rick didn't much care what people would think or suspect if they saw him disappearing into Daryl's cell. He was pretty sure that they would share his sentiment. In this world, and at this moment, any pleasure you could receive or give was a gift, and to be treasured.

There was a sheet hanging in front of Daryl's cell, like on most of them now, but it was drawn back. Rick could see his man sitting by the light of a hurricane lantern, fixing the fletching on one of his crossbow bolts. He looked up when Rick approached. A smile crossed his face that made Rick's heart skip a beat. He stopped at the entrance to Daryl's cell.

"Hey."

Rick just took Daryl in for a moment. His cop mode was still strong sometimes, and he would find himself standing still somewhere, just observing a particular scene or person, as if to commit it all to memory for analysis later.

Daryl definitely looked better today. He had clearly showered, and since none of them had left the prison that day Rick reckoned they were both cleaner than they had been in weeks. Not that it bothered him, one way or another. Daryl's face was still too pale, though, and taking the time to look properly Rick could tell just how much thinner he was. He made a mental note to urge his man to eat whenever possible.

"You feel ok today? Took your pills?"

Daryl nodded. He motioned to Rick to come into the cell, and got up from the table. Rick stepped through the doorway and let the sheet fall in front of it. And then his arms were suddenly full of Daryl. He couldn't suppress a smile. The sensation was so welcome and familiar and yet so unexpected. Daryl didn't often make the first move but Rick was delighted every time he did.

Rick responded hungrily to Daryl's kiss. It felt like forever since they'd been together properly, even though it had been only days. For Rick that kind of longing to be with a person constantly usually meant he was falling in love. It did not come as a surprise.

Daryl now pushed Rick against the bunk beds and his hands were busy with Rick's shirt buttons. Rick responded in kind, but stopped himself again from pushing the shirt off Daryl once he'd undone the buttons.

Pants buttons were next, and soon both of them were only in boxer shorts. Daryl stopped here and became very still. He caught Rick's gaze and held it fast. Panting hard, he placed one hand on Rick's chest, letting it slide down slowly. The other hand slipped past the waistband into Rick's underpants. Daryl took him into his hand, and Rick gasped at the sensation of skin on sensitive skin.

Then Daryl dropped to his knees, pulling down Rick's boxer shorts as he went and all the while not breaking eye contact. Only when he was on the floor did his eyes wander down as he took Rick in his mouth. The sensation was intense and Rick braced himself against the bunk beds. Nobody had done this for him in too long a time to remember.

And Daryl was good at it. He paid attention to Rick's reactions, slowing down or speeding up depending on the feedback he got. His tongue did things to the tip of Rick's cock that Rick had no recollection ever experiencing before. He knew that if Daryl didn't stop soon he wasn't going to last.

Reluctantly Rick placed a hand against Daryl's face. He didn't want this to stop, it was such a turn-on. But at the same time he didn't want to be the only one getting fulfilment out of their encounter that night.

Daryl looked up, unsure for a moment and searching Rick's face for an indication that he'd done something wrong. Rick didn't like the fact that he could cause that reaction in his man so easily, so he put his hand more firmly on Daryl's face and held his gaze, putting all his emotions into it.

"I want to have you, now."

Daryl's eyes sparkled with delight. He got up and turned away for a moment, finding something in a bag. When he turned round again he showed Rick a small bottle of slick.

"Picked this up a while ago. We're just never in here to fuck, usually."

Rick had to grin, and Daryl answered with a small smile. Rick stepped up to Daryl and pulled down his boxer shorts. He pressed close to Daryl, trapping both their erections between them and leaning in for a passionate kiss.

There was no need to hurry, for a change. Rick took his time, exploring each sensation. Their mouths and tongues busy, his hands gliding up and down Daryl's sides. Their warm bodies pressed together. The soft hair on Daryl's belly as he brought his hand between them. Too much leanness and too many sharp edges of bones and ribs, and again Rick made a mental note to make sure Daryl got more food into him.

Rick went for his lover's cock next. He just held it in his hand for a while, feeling the heat radiate, the blood pulse. Then he started slow up and down strokes, small and controlled between their bodies still flush together. Daryl moaned into his mouth, going slack against Rick. He broke away from the kiss and from under half-closed lids regarded Rick with an indescribable gaze. On an impulse Rick reached up with his free hand and traced along the other's cheekbones with his thumb, then pushed some strands of hair off his forehead.

Daryl leaned into the hand, closing his eyes and tilting his head. Rick was reminded of a feral cat, usually wild and wary of people, but on occasion craving human contact. He leaned in and brought their foreheads together, inhaling the other man's scent. Being so unusually clean he smelled more of soap and less of Daryl than Rick was used to, but he could still discern the combination of cigarette smoke, motorbike oil and burning wood he had come to associate with Daryl.

"You smellin' me, man?"

The voice sounded different from what Rick was used to, and he realized it was the fact that they were both completely relaxed and at peace that made them both let their guard down. The Daryl Rick was used to would never let himself be petted, and never during their lovemaking so far had Rick taken this much time just savoring the sensation.

Neither of them had forgotten the threats they were facing, or the pain and humiliation that had occurred, but in this moment all there was to the world was in this prison cell.

Rick leaned back with a smile. "I might've…" Then, "Are you ready."

Instead of a response Daryl broke away, walked around him and pulled Rick towards the bunk bed. He lay down on the bed, eyes never leaving Rick's, and held out the bottle of lube to Rick, who took it.

Rick slid in on top of Daryl. These beds were not made for two grown men to have sex on (though Rick mused idly that they had probably seen a lot of that in the old world), but they usually managed without either of them knocking themselves unconscious on the frame.

Daryl started spreading his legs for Rick to position himself, but Rick suddenly had an idea. He remembered the time in the forest, the first time they'd fucked properly, with Daryl braced on the tree trunk, and how much Daryl had enjoyed being taken that way.

"Get on your side. I want to fuck you from behind."

Daryl's eyes glinted at the suggestion, and Rick knew he was remembering the same thing as him. He rolled over, facing the wall, and Rick lay down, propping himself onto one elbow behind him. He squirted some lube onto his fingers and scooted close. The one thing Rick would have liked to change about the arrangement was that Daryl was still wearing his shirt, but he knew that they were not quite relaxed enough to address that topic.

When he was almost flush against Daryl's back the other man drew up his knees, placing the top leg in front to give Rick better access. The view down between their bodies revived Rick's erection, which had wavered somewhat while they'd been adjusting their positions. He placed his hand on his lover's buttocks and spread them until he could place his fingers against the opening.

There was a small intake of breath as Rick inserted the fingers. They were so familiar with each other now little time was needed for Daryl to adjust, and Rick pushed in slowly but steadily until Daryl started to squirm with pleasure. By now Rick knew precisely where his man's sweet spot was and moved his fingers a little to increase the pleasure. Daryl responded immediately with a sharp intake of breath and a moan. He half turned.

"'m almost there, man. Take me now, I need to feel you…"

Rick withdrew his fingers and coated his cock with lube. He moved in even closer and put the tip of his erection against Daryl, who had started to tremble slightly. With a slow exhalation Rick entered the other man, not going in increments like usual but in one fluid movement, slowly enough for Daryl to stop him if it got too much, but eager now and nearly close himself.

Daryl rocked himself back, seemingly unable to wait for Rick to fully enter him. He pulled his knees up further, giving Rick perfect access now. Rick slid in all the way, pulling his own knees up somewhat to fully connect.

The movement possible in this position was restricted, but even the small rocking motions Daryl was keeping up seemed to be almost sufficient to stimulate them both. Rick was soon on the very edge, equally aroused by the friction and tightness as by the sounds coming from Daryl.

His lover was never noisy during sex but this time, possibly owing to the excellent angle this position afforded Rick to hit his prostate he had a harder time keeping himself in check. His groans still probably didn't travel past their cell, and Rick felt happy at the evident pleasure he was able to give his man. Any pleasure he could give Daryl was precious.

With the arm that was not supporting him on the bed Rick pulled Daryl close, and the other man came eagerly until there was no space at all between them. Daryl now went for his own erection and started stroking himself. Rick could tell he was close, and so was he.

"God, Rick, 's amazing."

Rick had never known Daryl to talk this close to orgasm, but he wasn't sorry for the feedback. He responded in kind. "'m close, just let go, 'm gonna be there with you."

And that was all it took for Daryl. He arched back and with a last moan Rick could tell that he'd tipped over. The tightening on his cock meant that Rick only lasted a second longer, and he increased his hold on Daryl, to feel the other man as fully as he could at this moment of fulfilment.

-.-

"Rick?"

They had cleaned up somewhat and put their underwear back on. Just in case, Rick always thought, that they had to get up quickly for some emergency. Now Daryl was resting against Rick, his head on Rick's shoulder and half draped over him. They'd never be able to stay this way, the bed was just too narrow, but for now Rick would have been happy to nod off lying on his back with Daryl in his arm. But evidently his man had something on his mind.

"Hmm?" Rick wasn't too keen to talk, but Daryl so rarely ever initiated conversation he didn't want to discourage him now.

"What's going on with you? I mean, when you go all far away on us, what do you see?"

Rick considered his answer. Daryl deserved the truth, but he wasn't even sure what that was himself, not really. He just had to try his best to explain.

"I see Lori. Like a hallucination, only, I know she isn't really there. It's like a message from… somewhere inside. It's myself, I think, telling me to take better care of my people."

Daryl seemed to consider this. "You do take care of us." His voice was very quiet now, Rick had to strain to hear him. "Nobody has ever taken care of me like you do. Rick, don't leave me to follow Lori."

Rick wasn't sure what Daryl meant, exactly. Was he telling him not to die or not to follow the apparitions? He looked down at Daryl's shaggy hair and was about to ask but then realized the other man had gone to sleep, breathing slowly and evenly, warm against Rick and utterly relaxed.

Thinking it over Rick was sure Daryl must have been half asleep when he'd spoken and probably wouldn't remember a thing. But Rick promised himself that he'd do exactly as Daryl had asked, and never left him again.


End file.
